yes.

holding onto each minute.  let me savor each smell.  let me float in the communion.  let me touch time and fold it into my coat pocket.  i guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower. winter is honesty.  life is a ribbon, and you tie knots in it to mark those places that were once so important.  every carefully lined eye, every perfectly manicured nail, it means nothing.  every matte face, pressed and re-designed.  walk onto the stage and feel the applause radiate.  this is me.  sink your teeth into streaks of adrenaline.  make piles of people on a three person couch, six or seven at a time.  you are skin and friendship.  we are together, sweetly one and solemnly many.  we are hands and lips and stomachs.  we are panty-hose and hair-gel.  we are happy birthday in German.  we are that funny distance that i put between us when i’m nervous.  i am a screen that filters out emotion.  i am empty and distracted by my attempt to glean any information out of you, to figure you out.  i want to know what you think of me.  i want you to touch me first.